The School of Fandoms: The Game's Afoot
by TheIrishViking7
Summary: "None of it is real." People say as you worry about your favorite fandom. You resist, if only they knew the truth. Welcome to the school of fandoms where they all coexist under one roof. That can't lead to any trouble... right? Let's just hope the roof still stands by the end of it, and hopefully we can all find everyone in the right time period. Hide the time machines!


The School of Fandoms:

The Game is Afoot

I stiffen, I resist, but I still feel the impulse to leave to open a favorite book and tell my friends inside all about the blasphemy just uttered. You might have felt it too, the feeling when someone asks you why you are so worried about a book, TV series or a movie, because "None of it's real," they say. But what if I said it was real… in a way. Sure, that's what we all say, but it is far more complicated than we've ever imagined. Have you ever noticed that if you look really close, that characters get stuck in other fandoms ever so often? Yes, they're different characters, that is part of the rules, and yet it is always fun to see one of your favorite faces just show up, trying to blend himself into one of the other worlds, or you realize a plot that has been brewing from multiple series… or that one actor that seems to just pop up in fandoms as if he owns them all.

What if I told you of a place where all fandoms met? Well, not exactly meet, because there are precautions to try to keep them separate, but they do dwell under one roof. It is a very odd sort of place as one might expect with elves and heroes, and time lords and wizards and monsters and spies and talking lions and hyper-attentive detectives all over the place. There is some order, however, kinda like a school. Actually, for lack of a better term I'm going to call it a school; the School of Fandoms. You see; each fandom has a room where all the actors we have grown to know and love go to be the characters. They don't just act; however, this is where the character _is_ them. It is all very difficult to explain, I realize. You're just going to have to see it for yourself.

Martin Freeman made his way up the stone steps to the school, going at more of a jog to go up the steps quickly, one at a time. He had made it up the steps, and was nearing the great, open doorways, when a tall figure came to walk beside him with long, measured tread.

"Hello Benedict." Martin greeted.

"Hey! How have you been doing?" the other responded, "Brilliant weather today, don't you think?"

Stopping in front of the door, Martin looked up at the sky around him. "Yes, I daresay it is. Time that we must be off though." With that he continued on into the building, with Benedict not taking long to retake the lead.

They passed the main office, and proceeded down the hall of what appeared to be a regular school building, except for the group of people who climbed into one of the lockers pretending to be all secretive and spy-like, and disappeared. The two friends didn't seem to notice this, but instead turned a corner and headed up a flight of stairs. They passed a bunch more people even on this higher floor, but soon it was their turn to exit the hall as they stood before room 221.

Turning the round, bronze doorknob, Benedict pushed open the door. The change on his face was immediate, taking on a far more focused and serious expression. Reaching to the other side of the door, he removed his long black coat from a peg on the wall and put it on with a flourish. Popping the collar to attention, Benedict looked back at Martin with a cunning smile.

"Come on, Watson. The game is afoot!" And with that he took his swift, striding steps inside. The other squared his shoulders, scanning the door for a moment before following.

Inside they could see that everyone was already there, seated in desk-chairs, or atop the desk at the front of the room, or even a few stood by the sides. Benedict smiled as he saw everyone turn to see his arrival. Stepping forward he pulled back a chair about halfway down the room and sat down, legs casually outstretched as he planted his elbows on the chair's desk with his hands clasped together.

"Can we please get on with this?" he asked, throwing his head back in a disinterested manner. Sharply his attention was seized to look upon Martin in a quizzical manner after his friend elbowed him in the side. "What?"

From atop the main desk, the detective inspector wrapped the clipboard against his hand, flipping a sheet of paper to glance at the other side. "You know we have to take roll." he said in an exasperated manner. "It's to make sure we have everyone who is supposed to be here… and discover any stowaways that got in."

Sitting up straight, Benedict glanced to the right and left of him before fixing his gaze squarely on the inspector. "It doesn't take any level of brilliance to see that no one is either absent or unaccounted for. I'm sure that even you are at least capable of that."

"Sherlock! You know I don't like it any more than you do, but _it is_ protocol." The inspector watched the other closely, but when he remained silent, he let out a sigh and went back to his paper. "Andrew Scott."

A dark haired man in the far left corner and an impeccable suit raised his hand. "Jim Moriarty, hi!"

Nodding, the man with the clipboard checked something off with his pen. "Benedict Cumberbatch."

Turning back from where he had been transfixed with watching Moriarty, Benedict ran a hand through his hair. "You already know who I am. For goodness sakes you said so not fifty seconds ago!"

"Oh Sherlock, please play along for the others in the room." came the smug comment from the man sitting beside a large potted plant. "They just enjoy preforming these sorts of rituals. It gives them a sense of security."

Giving the other a sideways glare, Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Holmes. Sherlock Holmes."

Mouthing his thanks to the man by the plant, the inspector read off the next name. "Louise Brealey."

Her head shooting up at being addressed, a girl in a white lab coat raised her hand high in the air before timidly lowering it somewhat. "I'm Molly Hooper."

"Yes you are." The man on the desk said with a smile, his eyes already going to the next name. "Mark Gattis"

"Mycroft Holmes, and present." The man by the plant added.

"Martin?"

"John Watson." he answered.

This wasn't the only police agency around here having difficulties with their volunteer detective. After an hour of painstaking work, the majority of the chairs were in neat and perfect rows. Perfect. Each chair was exactly spaced from each other, each at right angles to each other and the sides of the room. Adrian fiddled with one of the last few remaining chairs out of line. He moved and fiddled with it for several minutes. It seemed like it couldn't be more precisely placed, but after inspection he moved it and started trying to fiddle it into place again.

"Monk!" Captain Stottlemyer said in a show of frustration, causing Adrian to jump, "You know we have to solve at least one case before the day is through."

"Yes, yes…" Monk answered as he turned back to the chair, wincing as if in pain when he saw it. "Look. Now it's all crooked again!"

"Well just fix them quickly and get on with it." The captain relented, "We haven't got all day."

"Thanks." Monk said, though his eyes widened, breath heald as he looked at the five remaining chairs through wide eyes. "Okay, Okay…" he said to himself as he hurriedly repositioned the last chairs. Moving the last one, he held up his hands and left it to join the others, only to turn back moments later for some final touch ups. After the millimeter adjustment, he nodded. "I'm done."

"Good!" Stottlemyer praised. "Now we can get some work done."

Taking a deep breath, Monk backed away fro the chair. Straightening, he was just turning away when the door opened, allowing a broad shouldered man to enter. He seemed quite at ease with himself, paying no attention to the startled expressions of the others already in the room as he sauntered in. Stopping a short ways in, the intruder gave the group a mischievous grin as he quite purposefully gave the nearest chair a shove with his foot.

With a squeak, Monk scrubbed the top of his head as he paced to the back of the group, a woman with short blonde hair stepping forward towards the stranger.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

Raising his arm to stop her, Stottlemyer shook his head, allowing Lieutenant Disher to come to her side in case additional assistance was necessary. "Let it be, Natalie. He probably doesn't know."

Calmly, the perpetrator raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing."

At this, the captain stiffened, eyeing the newcomer with a new degree of seriousness. "Who are you?"

"The name's Mark Sheppard."

"Yes." Stottlemyer said with frustration, "But who are you supposed to be? Which class do you even belong in?"

It took a while for Mark to answer, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he prolonged the silence. "I'm Chris Downey, Sir."

"Wait a minute." Captain Stottlemyer said, squinting to get a better look at the man, "I remember that name."

Swallowing, Mark took a step back, a bit more subdued than he had been before when a flash of light filled the room as another figure appeared in the middle. Monk made a muffled noise as chairs skidded out of place. This new man wore a suit and brown trench coat, and seemed just as startled and confused as the rest of them, if not more. By the time he was done looking around the room in his befuddled state and glanced down, however, his previous attire had already been replaced by a black leather jacket over a red button down shirt. He regarded the wardrobe change with no small degree of befuddlement when he looked up, freezing as he made eye contact with Mark.

"Well hello, Misha." Mark taunted, "Decided to drop by for a visit?"

Misha looked back at him with utter seriousness. "You had something to do with this."

With his hands to his chest, Mark feigned shocked offence. "Why must everything be my fault?"

"You two know each other?" Natalie asked the unexpected visitors incredulously, "And who in the world are you supposed to be?"

Misha looked back at her, seeming quite puzzled about that himself for a moment. "I'm Cas... Michael Karapov."

"Ok, now that we've got that settled," Stottelmyer stated from where he had momentarily seated himself, "You two sit down as we figure out what's going on. That's what we're supposed to be doing anyway."

Mark slowly sank down into his seat, being sure not to break eye contact with the captain as he did so. Michael walked a few paces towards the back of the room, still seeming somewhat overwhelmed before he sat down. Seeing Monk's discomfort as his chair slid backwards slightly, Michael tried to scoot it forward again, but it only made it worse.

Near the end of lunch break, Benedict and Martin bid ado to Tom Hiddleston, Mat Smith, and the rest of the gang, and started on their way back to their designated room. On their way down the hall, however, Benedict stopped in his tracks, a mischievously playful glint in his eye. Realizing that he was now alone, Martin doubled back.

"And what's gotten into you?"

Benedict looked back at him with a smile plagued with curiosity. "Ever wonder what is inside the other rooms?"

"Well, yes." Martin nodded slowly, "I think we all are."

At this, Benedict's smile widened. "Do you want to check it out?"

Upon hearing this, Martin's mouth formed a tight line of concern. "Are you sure we can do that? What if we're late?"

"Oh, don't worry. Just for a little peek. We'll be no later than we were this morning."

Finally showing signs of curiosity, Martin shared Benedict's mischievous grin as they stole forth towards one of the doors that lined the hall on the ground floor, and slipped inside.

What they saw on the other side left them speechless. They were in a classroom, like before. Here, however the chairs were more in groups than rows. Dwarves, elves and men for the most part stayed in their own separate areas. The real awe-inspiring thing about this place, was they weren't just in a classroom. Looking off into the distance they could see the whole of Middle Earth stretching out beyond them. Tying to fathom how they can both be in a moderate sized classroom, and an infinitely large expanse at the same time hurt their heads, so they both just stood and stared. More people started to show up, elves, men, and even a wizard passed through the door. Some of them gave Benedict and Martin a strange glance, but none of them said anything.

As if pulled in by it's splendor, the two of them started drifting further into the room. Before they knew it, they were talking to one of the people there.

"Good morning." Martin greeted after one of the others waved them over.

"Good morning." The other answered with a chuckle.

With an amused look on his face, Benedict leaned in closer to speak in Martin's ear. "It isn't morning anymore."

Baffled, Martin blinked as he tried to clear his head. "Yes, yes. And so it is. I don't know why I said that."

Benedict laughed, but suddenly his merriment was cut short by the ringing of the bell. It was time to start.

Anxiously, Martin glanced about. "What should we do?"

Letting out a sigh, Benedict shook his head sadly as he looked at how much of the room they would have to traverse to get out again. "Sorry, Martin. Would cause too much of a scene if we left now. I guess we'll just stay here for now… Martin?"

"What?" the other asked, nodding solemnly.

"Why are you taking off your shoes?"

Martin looked down at his feet, rather confused. Sure enough, he had taken off his shoes. "Um… I just thought it would be more proper this way."

Benedict looked at him silently for a few seconds before he could respond. "More proper with your shoes off?"

Martin had been well aware of the height disparity between Benedict and himself by now, but as he looked over, that disparity seemed to have increased. It was almost as if he was growing shorter, or Benedict taller… or could it be both? Another thing he couldn't explain was the sudden paralyzing fear he now experienced as he saw his friend. The beginnings of the roll call in the front just seemed to pound in his head like drums. Trying to stifle his breathing, he hurriedly scooted a seat away from the other.

Alarmed, Benedict looked over to him in concern, "Martin? Are you all right?" but even as he said that last phrase, his eyes narrowed as he exenterated his words with a snake-like twist of the head.

Breathing even more heavily now, Martin was visibly shaking as he pushed himself against the back of his chair.

"I'm sorry." Benedict said, quite worriedly. "I shouldn't have brought you here. Let's leave." He tried to move in closer, but Martin just scooted away again. "Martin?" he repeated, but then he paused as he took a deep breath, smelling the air. "No… Bilbo."

"Sm-Smaug!" Martin gasped, seeming to recognize the figure before him for the first time. Then he did what any self-respecting hobbit would do when confronted with a titanic dragon. He ran.

Smaug watched Bilbo leap over the chair in front of him and scramble off with a wicked glint in his eye. "Come now. Why all the rush so soon? Some people might consider it… _Rude!_"

"I'd rather not stay and see what I'd be considered otherwise!" Bilbo shouted over his shoulder as he booked it out of there as fast as his Halfling legs would allow. Desperately he looked for some good place to hide as the dragon began his pursuit. Of coarse Smaug had to be blocking the way to the door out of here. Ducking as a chair found itself being hurtled towards him, Bilbo suddenly found himself being accompanied by an elf.

"This way!" the blond haired elf shouted as he grabbed Bilbo's hand and began dragging him off towards a window.

Obediently, Bilbo followed, trying very hard not to stumble at such the breakneck pace. Hearing the speed of Smaug's pursuit, however, he wasn't going to complain. Catching himself when he was afraid that he was about to do a face plant, Bilbo looked up at the elf again with confusion. "Legolas? Why are you in The Hobbit? You're not in the book!"

Shocked, Legolas looked down at the hobbit, and then back at the dragon behind them. "Are we really going to go over this now?" And with that, the elf threw open the window and tossed him through.

Bilbo landed hard in the grass outside of the school. Almost instantaneously, however, Legolas leapt through the window and began dragging him off again. It was a good thing too, because before long the entire school shuddered. The wall they had just emerged from bowed and burst as Smaug's neck arched up again, forcing it's way through.

Stopping to turn and look at the dragon as it made it's way through the crumbling wreckage of the wall, Orlando Bloom let out a whistle. "So that's what happened with the budget. It's ok, Martin. He should be turning back into himself any minute now."

Now completely free from the building, Smaug shook the remaining debris from him. Shaking his wings, he stopped to look at them in a newfound delight as he looked up to the sky with a deep chuckle. "I am _Fire!_ I am _Death!_" he cheered, and then spreading his wings he leapt into the sky.

Passing a hand over his eyes, Orlando watched as Smaug's shape became more and more distant. "… Maybe not?"

Everyone gripped tightly to their desks as a tremor went through the building.

"What in the blazes was that?" Detective Inspector Lestrade asked as he looked anxiously around the room.

"Perhaps an explosion." Anderson said in his monotone. "Anybody find it suspicious that this happens on the same occasion Sherlock fails to show up?"

Lestrade gave him a look, "I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanat…"

"I said there was something off about him, that he shouldn't be trusted." Sally Donovan said as she got up from her chair. "I warned Watson about that too, and you know where that lead to." She gestured to the empty chairs.

Frustrated, Lestrade turned to her. "Be that your opinion, but that still doesn't change the fact that we need to find him. Does anyone have any idea where they might be?"

"I know exactly where he is." Mycroft said from beside the potted plant.

Shocked, the rest waited with baited breath for him to continue. It was Lestrade, who eventually ventured on. "Would you care to explain?"

Mycroft looked up at him with a smile. "He's turned himself into a dragon and is currently off flying about outside"

Speechless stares was his response. Chuckling, Mycroft pulled himself up to his feet. "No need to worry. I have connections, you know. Before you know it, this whole ordeal will be solved."

Lestrade caught him by the arm as he was about to walk out. "Are these the connections I think you mean? You never know who you are going to run into, and if I recall correctly, last time you went there, Ten killed you. If things continue to go on like this it will be forever before the next season comes out."

"That's nonsense!" Mycroft said, trying to brush him away, but the inspector's grip didn't loosen. He relented. "What would you propose being done?"

"I'll go." Lestrade answered, and then letting go of Mycroft, he strode out the door.

"So… What are we doing next?" Amy asked as she peered along the TARDIS control console.

"Anything you'd like." The Doctor answered as he pulled the lever.

From the sidelines, still sitting in his chair, Rory raised a hand. "You know the rules say…"

"Oh Rory." The Doctor said with a smile. "If there is anything you don't do, it is tell me the rules. Wait, wait.." he suddenly added, "The TARDIS has landed. Why have you landed? There's nothing here. No planet, no moon, not even an asteroid belt. It's almost as if… "

"Almost as if what?" Amy asked as she hopped up to the controls.

"Well, Ponds…" The Doctor announced with a rueful grin. "I think we have just set down on a spaceship."

"What are we waiting for?" She answered, striding purposefully to the door.

Leaping up from his seat, Rory looked from one to the other. "Shouldn't we check to make sure there is air and stuff out there first?"

"Good idea, Rory!" The doctor said as he flipped a switch with a spin. "Good to go. The atmosphere is A-OK!"

"Thanks." Amy answered curtly. She then turned to the door again, when to her dismay the door opened allowing Mark Sheppard to enter.

"Sorry mam." He said as he strode in. "But there's no spaceship out there."

"Ah!" The doctor said as he pushed a button, glaring at something on the screen. "I thought we were getting a spaceship today."

Amy didn't pay him any mind, but was focusing her attention on the intruder with increasing anxiousness. "Why are you here? What are you doing?"

A smug smile crossed Mark's face as he help up a blue envelope. "I was invited."

Amy's face contorted into an incredulous look. "Invited by who?"

"Oh, don't worry about him." The Doctor said as he hopped down the steps. "This is Canton, Everet Delaware III. He's a friend of mine."

The others seemed to get just so much more confused. "You mean he's a good guy?"

"Of coarse he is!" The Doctor answered. "It's not like there are a whole bunch of them out there for me to get confused. How many of them are there? I guess three, I suppose."

Mark, however, seemed to be rather amused with this. "Find it rather shocking that I'm a good guy, do you, Amy? Think I've got something up my sleeve? I will tell you this much; I'm rather fond of body bags."

"Ok." Rory said as he got up and edged Amy away. "That's enough of that."

"Well then." Canton said as he moved towards where The Doctor was still fiddling with the controls. "What to now?"

Just then, the door opened again as Lestrade came in. "Good. I was hoping it would be you guys in here."

"Hello, Rupert." Canton greeted, looking at him intrigued, "I didn't know you played this game."

The other looked at him with a manner of disgust on his face. "No. There's a problem outside. I came to talk to Matt."

Suddenly, The Doctor perked up some more. "Really? What do they have for me this time?"

"Benedict's went and turned himself into Smaug." Rupert responded. "He's flying outside and refuses to come down. We were hoping you could do something. Talk to him maybe?"

The Doctor nodded. "For a moment I was hoping you were going to say dinosaurs… Dinosaurs on a spaceship. I like the sound of that. Well, first thing's first I guess. Where did you say he is?"

"Outside."

"Outside?" The Doctor asked, pulling out his sonic. "Wonder why he hasn't changed back yet. Guess that's what happens sometimes when you wander into a different room, I suppose. Won't be able to use this, though. Really need to bring my own more often. Well what are we doing standing around here for? Let's get going!" Sprinting towards the door he opened it slightly, peeking his head out into the hall with a smile. "Geronimo."


End file.
